


What's With All the B's?

by broodywolf



Series: Fenhawke Week Fics [6]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 19:05:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4448489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broodywolf/pseuds/broodywolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU. Isabela drags Fenris to a club where Hawke and her friends happen to be out celebrating Bethany's birthday. Hawke and Fenris are both really, really bad at this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's With All the B's?

Isabela was planted in front of the mirror, holding each of two dresses (if the scant bits of fabric could even be called such) up to her body in turn.

“Which do you think, Fenris, the blue or the red?” She asked, gesturing with each as she spoke.

“Do I look like I have an opinion?” He scowled at her from where he was slumped at the foot of her bed. She had all but dragged him bodily from his apartment to get him to go out tonight. He had protested vehemently, but he knew that, in her own way, she was only trying to help. Maybe he should get out more. He never knew what to do with himself, though, and tended to end up standing around awkwardly while Isabela made advances on random strangers. He wanted to have a good time, he just hadn’t quite figured out _how_.

“Fine, blue it is.” Isabela decided, immediately beginning to strip.

Fenris gave a soft ‘tch’, protesting his friend’s immodesty on principle, though he made no effort to turn away. He fidgeted with the scarf Isabela had thrust over his head (“I can work with this all-black, Mr. Mysterious look you’ve got going on, but it needs a little _something_ ,” she’d announced after she’d surveyed the black skinny jeans and tee he’d thrown on), rotating it slightly and tugging on the looped grey fabric where it sat on his neck.

Once she was dressed (or at least as dressed as Isabela ever was, which was to say, not very), she leaned into the mirror to apply her lipstick. Finally, fluffing her hair a bit with her hands, the turned back towards Fenris and announced that she was ready to go.

It was a clear night and the weather was pleasantly mild, so they decided to walk, Fenris following a pace or so behind Isabela as she strutted down the sidewalk. When they reached their destination, Fenris observed the façade dubiously. The thumping bass of the music being blasted inside the club was audible even from where they stood across the street. A short line of people waiting to be allowed inside had formed under the bold lettering that proclaimed the place’s name: Revolution. The “e” was backwards. They crossed the street to join the line, and Fenris found himself regretting this decision already.

“This will be fun. You’ll see. Honestly, a decent lay would do you good. Maybe then you wouldn’t be so gloomy all the time.”

“I am not-” Fenris cut himself off in a somewhat belated attempt to avoid giving Isabela the satisfaction of getting a rise out of him. “Whatever you say, Isabela.”

They reached the front of the line then, and the bouncer checked their proffered ID’s and waved them inside.

Fenris was not prepared for the volume of the music blaring from overly large speakers above the bar. It had been loud from outside, but this… he could scarcely think. He allowed Isabela to manhandle him towards the bar. From the sheer number of people crowding the area, Fenris was sure they’d never manage to get drinks. Isabela, however, was undeterred, and disappeared towards the throng only to reappear at his side moments later, drinks in hand and dress hanging perhaps slightly lower over her cleavage. She grinned at him and pulled him towards a table. He sat down, relieved, and sipped at the drink she’d handed him. Some vodka concoction, too fruity for his taste but strong enough to do its job.  

“Eughh, this is disgusting. I have got to find a place that serves a decent _rum_.” Isabela declared, leaning in towards him so he could hear her over the din. Fenris smirked back at her to avoid the effort it would take for any verbal response to be heard.

Though the music was still loud, he found that his ears were at least adjusting somewhat to the noise. He had no interest in dancing, but the beat was strangely infectious and he found himself thinking that maybe this wasn’t so bad. He could do this. Sit here, have a drink, chat… or, perhaps more accurately, yell over the music at his friend. His friend who, right at that moment, got up and sauntered off in the direction of a handsome brunette by the bar. Fuck.

Now he was just awkwardly sitting alone at a too-big table. Why did he let Isabela talk him into this again? He was no good at this. He seriously contemplated leaving, but he’d never hear the end of it from Isabela later. He would at least stay to finish this drink, and then maybe he’d take his leave if she hadn’t come back. For lack of anything else to do, he let his eyes wander about the room. Besides the clamor at the bar, there were a number of people dancing badly in the middle of the room. More scattered around the various tables along the length of the room. He turned his gaze towards the far end of the room, and laid eyes on the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen.

Dark hair fell artfully across her face, just short of obscuring her piercing cerulean eyes. An infectious smile lit up her features. And she… was wearing a bumblebee costume, complete with wings. Huh. When Fenris finally managed to wrench his gaze away from her, he noticed that the rest of her companions were also wearing various costumes. One guy was in a tutu, someone else donned a pair of ears… none were dressed in normal clothes. Why, though?

He turned back to his drink, not wanting to get caught staring. He couldn’t help the occasional glance, though. He found himself wishing he were the type of person who could just walk up to strangers and strike up conversation. He wanted to know her. He wanted that bright smile to be directed at him. And, well, he was kind of curious about the costumes.

“Someone caught your fancy, then?” Shit, Isabela was back. “Come on, then!”

Before Fenris could even protest, Isabela had him by the arm and was dragging him towards the table at the end of the room. She waltzed right up to the woman in the bumblebee costume, who was, if possible, even more beautiful up close. Noticing them, the woman smiled brightly, but her eyebrows raised in question.

“So,” Isabella started, “We’re just dying to know. What’s up with the costumes?”

“Oh,” she laughed, and of course her laugh was perfect. Fenris was sure his cheeks couldn’t get any brighter red. “It’s Bethany’s birthday,” she gestured at a woman in a tiara on the other side of the table, “So we’re all dressed up as things that start with 'B’. Anders is a ballerina.” Tutu guy- Anders- performed a slightly wobbly pirouette. “Merrill is a bunny, Varric is batman, Carver is a banana…” Carver did not look particularly pleased with this turn of events. “Bethany already starts with a 'B’, so she’s just herself, and I am a bumblebee.”

“Sounds like fun,” Isabela replied. “Well, you kids have a good time,” she said, and was gone, leaving Fenris on his own. He panicked briefly before realizing that his bumblebee (not his, what the hell, he couldn’t go around thinking about women he’s just met as his, no matter how gorgeous they were) had started talking again.

“Oh, right, I’m Marian, by the way. Everyone calls me Hawke, though.” She smiled again, and he forced his mouth to form words.

“Fenris. Sorry. I'm… bad at this.”

“No worries! Come on, let’s go upstairs.”

His brain was having a bit of trouble processing this turn of events, but he followed her up several flights of stairs (fuck this place was huge) that emerged at last onto a rooftop patio. The cool night air felt wonderful compared to the stuffiness of the crowded interior, and it was blessedly quiet up here away from the incessant beat of the music.

“Ah, that’s better, don’t you think?” She said, looking up at the stars. “I’m going to get a drink, do you want anything?” He nodded, and followed her, dazedly, towards the considerably less crowded bar.

Once they had gotten drinks, and Hawke had claimed them a small table, Fenris finally managed to clear his head enough to form a complete sentence.

“Don’t you… don’t you wish to be with your friends?”

“Nah, they’ll be alright. Plus, it’s much nicer up here.”

“But wouldn’t you prefer their company?”

Wow, he was bad at this. Why did he say that? Wasn’t this what he wanted? He looked down at his drink to avoid her gaze. Now that he’d gone and said that, he was sure she would leave.

“I asked you up here, didn’t I?” He finally looked up at her, then, but when he didn’t speak she continued. “Okay, fine, I was trying to be cool but, well, let me just put it this way, if your friend hadn’t brought you over when she did, Anders was about to march me over to your table to make me talk to you and believe me, he wouldn’t have been as nice about it,” she said, still smiling at him, though her cheeks had gone bright red. “Sooo… here we are.”

“Here we are,” he said, finally managing to return her smile. His heart was still beating way too fast, and he was fidgeting awkwardly with Isabela’s scarf around his neck, and he still had no idea what to say too her, but it was an excited sort of nervousness that pooled in his stomach now, rather than the mortifying dread of before.

“I, um, I like your scarf,” she said then, saving him from trying to figure out what he should say.

“Oh. Thanks. It's… it’s my friend’s,” he smiled sheepishly, “But perhaps I will have to get one of my own.”  

Silence fell between them again. Now he really was supposed to say something. If only he knew what. Thankfully, she saved him again by speaking first.

“Shit, I am so bad at this! I’m really sorry, I swear I’m not usually this awkward, I just can’t think of anything to say!”

He laughed then, and felt some of the pressure release. “It would seem that is something we have in common, then.”

The silence was less awkward this time, and for once he was the one to break it.

“Perhaps if we just… sit, it will come to us?”

Her laugh was like music, and the wings on her costume fluttered slightly with the movement. “Yes, I think I can manage that.” She grinned at him, and it really was infectious because he found himself grinning stupidly back at her. The words would come eventually, and her smile was worth so much more.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: the location, and the group of people dressed up as things starting with B, are both inspired by real life events. It was fun deciding which of the group would be the ballerina (it was a guy in real life, too). 
> 
> Find me on tumblr: broodywolf.tumblr.com :)


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